


A Fear of Falling

by BeautifulThief



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10847172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulThief/pseuds/BeautifulThief
Summary: Society says that your soulmate is supposed to be your destined romantic partner.Kise knows this isn't the case.Aomine doesn't.





	A Fear of Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cimberelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimberelly/gifts).



> It's AoKise day, which in my opinion, is the perfect day for Soulmate AUs, thus my third AoKise day soulmate AU.
> 
> Happy AoKise day everyone! ~~don't ask me about my wips i'll get to them i swear~~

Ryouta has always known there are flaws in the system, of course. His parents have always been very candid on the fact; they are very clear that just because Soulmate Marks exist doesn’t mean that there’s fated romantic love between the two people who are linked.

Ryouta’s mother’s soulmate is her best friend, after all; platonic soulmates the two of them, and Ryouta knows they love each other as deeply as one can love, just not in a romantic sense, and sometimes he thinks that wouldn’t be so bad, to have a best friend who you loved so much.

His father’s soulmate had been sick all her life. And she’d died very young, shortly after they had met.

After all, being fated doesn’t necessarily mean that things end happily.

His father’s always been very clear that he loves their mother the way she is, and that he has never once wished that she was the soulmate that he lost – that what they have might not necessarily be fate, but that they chose each other is just as meaningful as a destiny.

Still, Ryouta’s a romantic. He loves the idea of being bound by fate to another soul, of finding your one true love. He complains when his sisters watch their silly dramas, the ones where they always find _that person_ , but he secretly loves to watch them too.

Ryouta’s Mark sits just next to the jut of his hipbone, and he wonders what the person is like, the one that is linked with the little symbol.

There’s a whole trade set up for the analysis of Marks, of course; there are some things about them that can’t be seen easily by regular people. Ryouta never sets up for one of these appointments, though both of his sisters do.

It’s more interesting, he thinks, not knowing. After all, he’s _sure_ he’ll know who his soulmate is when he meets them.

 

* * *

  

(Daiki, on the other hand, does not really understand that the system isn’t quite what it seems.

His parents are soulmates. So are Satsuki’s. The world where Soulmate Marks are flawed doesn’t occur to him. He’s a simple kid, after all. Thinking about flaws in destiny’s system is too big and complicated to come to his mind even if he had a reason to dwell on it.

It’s just that it doesn’t occur to him that a soulmate might be something different to what he expects.)

 

* * *

 

 

The thing about modelling is that it’s kind of one of those things which depends on the continued mystery of the Mark. There’s an allure, they explain to him, in your target market being able to think that maybe _they_ might be your soulmate.

Some career models opt to have theirs removed, but Ryouta’s too attached to the dark symbol in his skin. It’s easy enough to cover up with makeup or have it photoshopped out in the few shoots which would have it exposed anyway.

But it makes him more careful in everyday life, especially when he plays sports and gets changed. He doesn’t really have any body shame, but he tries to make an effort to keep it covered up. It’s not like Soulmate Marks are really a big deal at this age anyway. Very few people have met their soulmates this early in life, and well, there are so many more _interesting_ things to be doing than thinking about love and the rest of your life; things like sports and winning.

Ryouta thinks he only dwells on his thoughts of Soulmate Marks because he’s so damn _bored_.

 

* * *

 

 

(He’s not really sure what compels him to throw his basketball at Kise Ryouta’s head of shiny blond hair.

Daiki’s seen pictures of him, and heard girls whispering about him around the school. Even Satsuki, who is as basketball-obsessed as he is – she really just hides it better – has spoken about him.

It’s not until a long time later that he figures out what pulled him to chuck his basketball at Kise Ryouta, but he doesn’t think about it all that much when he does it. After all, basketball isn’t going to play itself, and once Kise hits first string, he wants to play _all the time_.)

 

* * *

 

When he does figure it out, Ryouta doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

He really suspects he should have seen it coming, after all. He’s been half in love with Aomine for what feels like most of his life, after all; maybe it’s only been three years, but it _feels_ like forever, with everything that happened (the rise of glory and talent, the bitter fall, the desperate fights and the reconciliation after all of them had had a little bit more sense beaten into them – it’s been a rollercoaster few years). And well. Their meeting did have a very ‘fated’ feeling to it. Ryouta could still remember the way his heart had beat harder watching Aomine play that very first time.

Ryouta knows the system is more than a little bit flawed, but at Teikou he’d still been convinced that maybe it would work out for him. He was a romantic like that, after all. Even though both his parents, and one of his sisters, at that point, had all been unconventionally matched, didn’t mean he would be too.

Ryouta’s always been too busy making sure that his mark doesn’t get seen to try and look at other peoples’ marks. At Teikou, though none of the other starters had given a shit about Soulmate Marks, Ryouta had always had to be on guard because of the growing displeasure of some of the other members of Teikou’s basketball team. There were many bench warmers and boys that didn’t even make regulars, who would have thought very little of giving out the secret of Ryouta’s Mark, if they’d realised the difficulty revealing it could bring to his life.

Although he was more relaxed at Kaijou, Ryouta was still wary.

The first glance he gets at Aomine’s mark is when his slightly-too-small shirt rides up (he’s growing _again_ , what the fuck, that isn’t _fair_ ) as he stretches his arms up above his head after a game of one-on-one, and it leaves him feeling breathless and afraid.

He knows that mark sitting on Aomine’s side, after all. It’s the same one that sits just beside his hipbone, and is hidden by his shorts. A stalking black cat; well, it’s probably something a little bit more wild than a mere _cat_. But that’s what it is nonetheless. He sees it every day on his own skin.

His eyes are caught on it, and for some reason, Aomine’s brain picks now to figure out what he’s staring at.

“It’s kinda cool, huh? People keep saying it suits me more than anything, but when we got it looked at by those weirdos, they said it was a ‘copy’ or something.”

A copy cat.

A fucking _copy cat_.

Ryouta nods absently, and he honestly felt kind of light-headed, because this really wasn’t fair. This _really_ wasn’t fair. Aomine was _straight_ ; they must be just platonic soulmates. Even as Ryouta thought about it, and asked himself why _he_ would be Aomine’s platonic soulmate instead of Momoi - that really didn’t make sense - it seemed to be the only sensible answer to what their link was. It was so fucked up.

Aomine tilts his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen yours. I’ve seen Satsuki’s and Tetsu’s. Think I saw Midorima’s once. You do _have_ one, right?”

“Of course I have one,” Ryouta answers. He really wasn’t in the right place to deal with this line of inquiry. “I have to keep it hidden for my job. Increases my allure if people think they could be my soulmate.”

Aomine snorts. “Sounds ridiculous.”

He hums in agreement. “Let’s go one more, Aominecchi!”

Basketball. Basketball would distract them both from this terrifying, horrifying conversation and he could forget about it until he was alone and _then_ he could deal with the hysteria that was bubbling up in his chest.

‘Later’ is when he gets home after desperately attempting to act as normal as possible the rest of the time they spent together, sitting at the dinner he paid for because that’s how they do this – when Ryouta loses one-on-one he pays for dinner, and he’s always up to do it even though Aomine’s a pig because he loves playing basketball with Aomine and he’ll do anything to play just one more game – and desperately trying to find something to chatter about that isn’t Soulmate Marks, because he’s always chatty and Aomine will notice if he’s being quiet.

Later is in the shower where he washes off the sweat of his and Aomine’s games and stares at the little cat prowling on his skin and wonders if fate is somehow genetic because his entire family seems to be cursed to irregular soulmates.

Later is in his bed as he tries not to feel so disappointed that the world and system he already knew was screwed up has turned itself on him too.

It feels kind of as if it was inevitable, and that’s almost the worst part of all.

 

* * *

 

(Daiki sees Kise’s by accident.

It’s their last year of high school, and he’d ditched practice to come over to Kaijou because there was an itch to play a _proper_ game because the autumn tournaments were too fucking far away. He’d gone to Kaijou because it was always easier to convince Kise to play a game or five than it was Kagami because Kagami had a demon coach and Kise was practically a junkie for one on ones.

He’d had to wait outside until Kaijou’s practice was over, but that was fine. He just napped until Kise came to fetch him, because it was still warm enough outside to do so.

Kise wasn’t at his best because he’d just gone a whole practice and Daiki hadn’t, but that was okay, because Kise always kept going until he practically couldn’t stand anymore. It was worth the trip, he decided in the end; but he was still going to make Kise pay for dinner.

He sees it because Kise’s towel was lower on his hips than he’d probably meant it to be and was too tired to realise, and the moment Daiki sees it, he _knows_ what it is, and he knows Kise had seen his last year and before he can help himself, he’s standing up. Feeling like his whole body was shaking with how _angry_ he was because _Kise knew_ , and he’d _kept it from him_.

“What’s that, Kise?” he asks, and he feels like he isn’t even in control of himself, he feels like he’s outside his own body, staring at that stupid mark on Kise’s fucking hip.

And Kise goes very still. Daiki has never seen Kise go _still_ like that before, because he was one of those annoying people who was constantly doing something. He watches Kise’s gaze flick towards Daiki as if in confirmation. He clearly knows what Daiki is talking about though, because he looks very scared as he tugs the cloth to hide Daiki’s Mark from his sight. Kise doesn’t answer his question, but he doesn’t need to. It’s pretty damning, after all and he couldn’t say it was _nothing_. They both know what it is.

“What is it?” he asks again, because he _wants_ the answer even if he doesn’t need it. Daiki moves closer, feeling hot and cold somehow in his fury.

When Kise doesn’t answer, he reaches out to tug the towel down just that bit so he could see  it again to get a better look, even though he doesn’t need to.

It was _his_ . His Mark is on Kise’s skin there, and Kise had to have known the moment he’d seen Daiki’s last year. It’s the same, after all, though Daiki’s is the _copy_ , and shit he’d find that hilarious if he wasn’t so fucking _furious_ because Kise is his goddamned _soulmate_ and he hadn’t _said anything_.

“Were you going to tell me?”

Kise looks away from him. “I didn’t know how,” he finally says. “It’s... look, my whole family’s like fate’s practical joke okay. It’s probably just a platonic one, you know? My mum’s is like that too. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not— _not a big deal_ ?” He lets go of the towel and Kise hitches it back up again to hide the Mark from sight. “Fuck that. _Fuck that_ .” He feels like he’s going to _explode_ . “This is a huge deal! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You’ve known for _ages_ . You weren’t going to fucking say anything? Didn’t you think I deserved to _know_?”

“I... I thought it might be better,” Kise says quietly. “Plenty of people live their lives normally without meeting their soulmate, get married to other people. You’re _straight_ , Aominecchi.”

There’s something very desperate about Kise’s expression, but he doesn’t want to hear his stupid flimsy excuses. Kise didn’t deserve to keep this knowledge away from him.

“Fuck you, Kise.”

If he stays here any longer, he’s going to punch him. He doesn’t really _want_ to hit Kise (he doesn’t want to hit his _soulmate_ ), but he’s so _angry_ , and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, doesn’t know what to do with the hurt and the anger and betrayal that’s spiralling through him.

He turns away to yank his clothes on as fast as he can, and leaves without saying another word.

He digs his phone out of his bag as he walks out of Kaijou’s ridiculously enormous grounds because he needs Satsuki. He needs to talk to her right fucking now. His phone is full of angry messages from her, but he’ll deal with her giving him that lecture about being a role model for their juniors and not skipping practice later.

“ _Where have you_ been?” Is the first thing she says she picks up the phone. Not even a hello. Typical.

Not that he could really talk.

“Kanagawa.”

He hears her sigh over the line. “ _I know you like playing with Ki-chan, but it’s really bad form to turn up at another school unannounced and uninvited while skipping your own practice!_ ”

“Satsuki, shut up and let me talk for a second.”

That startles her into silence for a second. He _never_ wants to talk. He doesn’t really want to talk now, either, except that he doesn’t know what to do and Satsuki always knows what to do.

“... _Dai-chan, what’s wrong? What happened? Did you get into a fight with Ki-chan?_ ”

He runs his free hand through his hair. “Kind of. It’s not my fault, before you say anything!”

“... _I wasn’t going to_ ,” she answers, but it isn’t very convincing.

“So you’ve never seen Kise’s Mark, right?”

“ _I’ve heard some rumours, but I haven’t seen it for myself so I have no hard information on it. Popular models are usually discouraged from making them public knowledge_.”

“Just say no like a normal person, Satsuki.”

“... _Oh dear._ ”

The words come out softly, because she is the most brilliant girl he’s ever met and she’s put everything together already with her incredible mind. Daiki doesn’t often envy her intelligence, though he knows her brain will probably get her further in life than basketball will ever get him, but he’s at the very least thankful for it right now.

“Yeah.”

“ _He’d already seen yours, hadn’t he?_ ”

“Yeah.”

There’s a loud rushing noise against the speaker of his phone as she sighs. “ _He probably didn’t hide it to hurt you_.”

“He didn’t have the right to keep it from me.”

“ _I agree_ . _He didn’t at all. You have every right to be angry at Ki-chan._ ”

The line falls silent between them.

“ _...Did he say why?_ ” Satsuki asks.

“He gave me some poor excuses. I don’t know. I was too angry to listen properly.”

“ _That’s okay. When you cool down, you can go talk to Ki-chan again and hear him out properly_ .” She pauses, as if she’s deciding whether there’s something she wants to say. “ _Are you okay? Are you okay with your soulmate being Ki-chan?_ ”

“I’m pissed,” he mutters, “but I’ll live. I don’t know about that other one yet.”

“ _Okay. Let’s hang out this weekend, okay Dai-chan?”_ )

 

* * *

 

 

Aomine doesn’t speak to him for almost a month.

He’s never been overly in contact, which is something Ryouta tells himself to try and make himself feel better, but the fact is that Aomine is furious at him, and he has every right to be. _That_ is what makes the silence unbearable.

The stony silence he gets from Momoi, too, indicates that _she_ has a lot of things she would like to say to him on the topic of hiding the fact that they’re soulmates, but that she’s going to wait until Aomine is alright with speaking to him again. She hadn’t actually said as much, of course, but Ryouta can figure it from the way that she refuses to answer any of his messages.

When Momoi finally sends a text telling him Aomine is willing to speak to him, he turns into a bundle of nerves. Not just because Aomine won’t text him directly, which is a bad sign, but because he’s more than a little worried he’s going to fuck this up and lose even the platonic bond he and Aomine have had for so long.

They meet at a little coffee place. It’s Momoi’s suggestion, because it’s a ‘neutral space’. The two of them spend about five minutes there, looking at the drinks menu being awkward and silent, before Aomine stands up, clearly done trying to make Momoi’s suggestion work.

“We’re going to the basketball court,” Aomine tells him. Ryouta can’t say he didn’t see it coming, and he has to bite back a smile, despite his nerves and the situation. He nods his response, and picks up his bag.

Ryouta’s always wondered if Aomine has some kind of magical basketball sensors that tell him where the closest court is to wherever he happens to be. He kind of suspects he does when they arrive at one ten minutes later, and he’s fairly sure neither of them has ever been there before.

Aomine pulls a basketball out of his bag and throws it at him.

“Aren’t we going to talk?” Ryouta asks.

“When I feel like it,” Aomine grumbles. “I feel like playing a few games first.”

Ryouta loses three games before Aomine decides it’s time to start talking.

“Why?”

Ryouta sits down. “Aominecchi,” he says, “you have to understand, my family is practically cursed with this soulmate thing. It never works out for us the way the world says it’s supposed to.”

Aomine frowns down at him. “You said something like that before.”

He continued on without commenting on Aomine’s interruption. “What was I supposed to think? You like girls, Aominecchi, and you’ve never been shy about it.”

“But we’re soulmates.” Aomine says it like it’s simple. Maybe it is for him.

Ryouta gestures at himself. “Aominecchi, what part of me looks like it has the bits you like?”

Aomine shrugs. “But if you’re my soulmate, doesn’t that mean I’m going to like you?”

“That’s... not exactly how it works, Aominecchi.”

He flops back against the ground. He already feels tired out by Aomine’s persistence, somehow.

“Do you not like me, then? Is that it?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ryouta answers instantly.

“So then what’s the big deal?” Aomine sits down next to him and flicks his forehead.

Ryouta sighs and thinks a bit about how to answer. In the end, it’s just too hard.

“Fine, whatever. You think it’ll work, we’ll try, I guess. I still think it’s just platonic, and you should go off and find someone who you’re actually interested in in _that_ way, but clearly words aren’t going to work.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Aomine says, and sighs. “You’re such hard work, Kise. Come on, get up, I want to play again.”

 

* * *

 

 

(Daiki doesn’t really start to get what Kise means until he gets home and talks to Satsuki about it.

She looks like she doesn’t want to agree with Kise, because her face is all screwed up, but she does, in the end, say, “Well, he’s not entirely _wrong_ , Dai-chan.”

He knows she’s still mad at Kise, so clearly there’s something he’s missing.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you thought about what it means? Like, _really_ thought about it? Have you thought about going on dates with Ki-chan, and kissing him? And...” she pauses, pulls a face, but bravely soldiers on, “and have you thought about having _sex_ with Ki-chan?”

“Like... in detail?”

“Yes, in detail!” Satsuki is red in the face, like she doesn’t want to be having this conversation with him. She probably doesn’t, but Daiki knows better than to think that she’ll let him shut down the conversation for her sake.

“I mean, sort of? I looked it up, because I wasn’t sure how you were supposed to do it?”

She sighs. “I meant more like, did you think about whether or not it would gross you out to touch Ki-chan’s bits, Dai-chan.”

He frowns and thinks about it for a moment.

“He’s my soulmate though. I mean, I probably wouldn’t wanna put my fingers in some other guy’s--“

“ _Dai-chan_!”

He smirks at her, and she hits him with a cushion.

“I’d do it for Kise, though,” he finishes.

“But do you want to do it? Dai-chan, this is really important. It’s _okay_ to not want to be with Ki-chan in that way. There are some people whose soulmates are platonic, you know. I don’t want you to think or feel like you have to be with Ki-chan like this just because you’re soulmates.”

Daiki sighs and groans. “Too much thinking. It’s fine. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But I want to try.” He pauses for a moment. “You know, Kise looked really sad, talking about it all not working.”

“Well,” Satsuki says, her voice quiet, “it doesn’t always. We were really lucky, you know. Growing up surrounded by soulmates the way everyone says it’s supposed to be.”)

 

* * *

 

 

Dating Aomine is weirder than Ryouta expects, but perhaps that’s because he didn’t expect it to happen at all.

He expects that they won’t really go on a lot of ‘traditional’ dates, and he’s fine with that. Sometimes they do go out and see movies, but most of their dates involve playing a lot of basketball and video games after.

Aomine’s always had very little understanding of the concept of personal space and he’s always been comfortable with casual touching, so that part isn’t actually all that different from before, except that Aomine maybe keeps touching longer than he used to, and seems very comfortable sprawling all over Ryouta in private in a way he never did before.

Ryouta still can’t bring himself to believe that this will work out.

Most of Aomine’s touches are fairly casual; the kinds of touches people who’re really close and comfortable friends might make, especially if one of them is an asshole like Aomine is and likes to squash your legs or back.

Sometimes, though, his fingers linger around where they know his Mark sits on Ryouta’s skin, and it makes him flush. Aomine doesn’t slide his fingers under his clothes to touch it skin on skin, but somehow the way his fingers linger where they both know Aomine’s Mark sits under his clothes still feels kind of intimate.

They’re playing video games one afternoon at Aomine’s place and Aomine is lying across his legs in a way that doesn’t look like it should be at all comfortable, especially given the angle he has to lie at to keep his eyes on the screen. Ryouta’s gotten a bit more used to the way he has to rest his arms on Aomine when he insists on lying like this, but he’s still overly conscious of the warmth of his body across his legs and under his elbows.

Aomine shifts. “Your elbows are bony,” he complains.

“You’re in the way,” Ryouta whines in return. “What else am I supposed to do?”

Aomine sighs in a very put upon way, as if Ryouta is the one being ridiculous and not him and moves so it’s just his head on Ryouta’s thigh.

It takes a lot for Ryouta’s head to not instantly go somewhere much less innocent.

Aomine looks up at him like he _knows_ what he’s trying so hard not to think about - he probably does, he’s a _pervert_ \- and grins in that kind of evil way he does sometimes when he’s got you on the ropes.

“You’re kind of cute from this angle,” he says casually.

He’s going to die. He’s definitely going to die. He’s staring at Aomine and his head is just empty, he doesn’t know what to do, because he wants to hope so bad, but he doesn’t want to get hurt—

“You think really loudly,” Aomine tells him. “Stop stressing so much.”

Aomine sits up then, and his rough fingers are gentle when they touch Ryouta’s cheek. He’s caught by the gentle expression on Aomine’s face as his fingers slide down Ryouta’s face and then around his neck. They stay like that for a moment, Ryouta staring helplessly at Aomine and the almost disconcerting expression on his face, before Aomine guides his face closer with the hand around his neck and kisses him, soft and easy and over way too fast.

Aomine lets go easily and lies back down, his head back on Ryouta’s thigh. “Focus on the game more. You’re losing really badly today.”

Ryouta loses even worse in their next game, but he doesn’t feel like he’s just been beaten so badly the way Aomine laughs.

 

* * *

 

 

(When everyone finds out they’re soulmates, a surprising and annoying number of people comment to Daiki either that in hindsight, it makes total sense, or that they just don’t really get it at all. Those who’re more aware of how messed up the system is ask Daiki if he’s sure it’s not platonic, since doesn’t he like girls and breasts?

He’s not sure why both comments annoy him – surely one of them should at least be amusing – but they do. Maybe it’s the way people claim it’s so _obvious_ , when they both only figured it out from seeing their mark on the other’s skin; and maybe it’s the way people deny it outright, and fortify Kise’s belief that it’s a platonic soulmate mark and undo all of Daiki’s work to convince him that maybe it’s not.

If Daiki was destined for a platonic soulmate, it would be Satsuki, he thinks. Besides, there’s always been something a bit special and a bit different about Kise, though he hadn’t really thought about it much – he’d had so many other things on his mind. Everyone always says he’s an idiot, right?

Daiki’s sure he loves Kise. He’s actually pretty sure he’s always loved Kise, just maybe not always romantically. But he had loved Kise as a friend, and loved him as a rival; and maybe it was naive, but he wanted to believe that he would love him in every way, and if that was because Kise was his soulmate, then that was just how it was.

Touching Kise had always felt right before, whether it was roughhousing or skinship. Touching the spot where he now knew Kise was marked for him, made him feel warm. Kissing Kise, maybe it wasn’t like kissing a girl - he’d tried that a few times, and it’d been nice enough - but it felt right too, the way being with Kise had always felt right before.

He only hoped that Kise felt the same way.

While sometimes it was easy to read Kise, simply knowing him well, Daiki often found it difficult to know how he was feeling. Kise was secretive and slippery beneath the loud and boisterous mask that he wore, putting on a show to distract people from what he didn’t want them to see.

When Kise wanted to hide something, Daiki wanted to be the one who could see through it all, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t. He knew Kise was insecure about their bond, but not whether anything he did made him feel better. He knew Kise loved him, but couldn’t figure out whether his own feelings - which seemed to be getting stronger all the time - were getting through to him.

And he didn’t really want to _say_ it, because saying it would be _embarrassing_ , and he really wasn’t very good at the whole feelings thing.

“Oi, Satsuki.”

Satsuki sighs as he interrupts her. “We’re supposed to be studying, Dai-chan. Were you listening at all?”

“No,” he answers, because there’s no point lying to her. “How do I make Kise feel secure about being soulmates?”

Satsuki looks at the ceiling, something she often does when he’s not doing what she would like him to, and then shifts on the couch so she’s facing him. “Well, why does Ki-chan feel insecure about the two of you being soulmates?”

“Because he’s stupid.”

“Dai-chan.”

“He is!”

Satsuki smacks the back of his head. “Ki-chan is insecure because you have never been interested in other boys, and he is scared that one day you’ll realise you can’t be with him, or that it makes you uncomfortable or grosses you out, and that you’ll stop dating him. Ki-chan is trying to protect himself from the pain this would cause him, because Ki-chan loves you.”

“So, you guys made up?”

Satsuki closes her eyes, exhales, and hits him again. “Only time and reassurance will help Ki-chan feel more secure. Have you actually _told_ him you love him, Dai-chan?”

Daiki frowns at her. “He should just know.”

Satsuki covers her face with her hands. “You’re so stupid. Why don’t you talk to him instead of me? I guarantee that it would do wonders for your relationship.”

Daiki pulls a face at her.

“And, just so you know, I let Ki-chan have a piece of my mind before I let him off the hook.”

He snorts and grins. “Of course you did.”)

 

* * *

 

Ryouta wants to believe that it’ll work out. He _does_.

It’s just that, it seems so unlikely. He knows Aomine likes him, that Aomine enjoys his company, and that he isn’t bothered by kissing him.

But he worries all the same.

He worries Aomine will touch him one day and wonder why there aren’t the curves that he likes. That he will realise he doesn’t love Ryouta romantically, just as a close friend, which isn’t… a _lesser_ thing, his mother made damn sure he knew that a platonic soulmate was just as special as a romantic one, but because Ryouta has loved him so much, for _so long_ , it feels like it would destroy him for Aomine to pull away. Or it would if he let himself get any more attached.

It feels like it should be fading, the sense of fear, but it _isn’t_ , and Ryouta knows too, that it isn’t fair to Aomine to keep him at arm's length like this, to push him away when he’s trying to get close, to judge his potential for pain without thought for the potential of happiness.

He thinks like this before every one of their dates, even though he knows he shouldn’t. He keeps expecting Aomine to walk up to him before their date one day and tell him he’s changed his mind.

Today they’re just playing basketball before video games. Ryouta arrived early, as he usually does, and he’s just sitting on the wooden bench beside the court. It’s almost winter - they won’t be able to play at this court much longer, but Ryouta always feels sentimental about this particular court in this park - it was where they played a lot of one on one during that first year of his at Teikou.

“Kise.”

Ryouta starts a little, and smiles at Aomine. “You snuck up on me!” he accuses him. “Have you been taking lessons from Kurokocchi?”

“Aa? You were the one sitting there staring into space like an idiot.”

Aomine drops his bag next to Ryouta’s and sits down next to him on the bench. “Can we talk?”

Ryouta swears he can feel his stomach dropping and his heart clench at the words. Somehow, he realises, despite all the thinking and worrying, he still wasn’t _prepared_. His throat feels tight.

“What the- Kise, what’s wrong?” Aomine has gotten up, and he kneels down in front of him, one hand grabbing Kise’s tightly, the other rubbing his face. Oh. He’s crying. “You gotta tell me Kise, I don’t know what to do.”

If he was any less distressed, he’d laugh at the obviously panicked expression Aomine has on his face and tone of voice. As it is, all he feels like he _can_ do is cling tightly onto the hand Aomine’s given him.

“Should I call Satsuki? She always knows what to do, will she make it better?”

Ryouta shakes his head. “Don’t leave me.” It comes out pathetic, needy, weak. Ryouta hates it, hates himself a little for it, for wanting something from their bond that he’d always known Aomine wasn’t able to give. “I’m not ready yet.”

Aomine frowns. “I don’t understand.”

It an effort to pull in a full breath, but he manages it. “I’m not ready to break up.”

“Wha- we’re not breaking up! Who told you that?! I’ll beat them up, I swear to you.”

His outrage is kind of adorable, and somehow he manages to laugh wetly. “No, you said you want to talk, that always turns into a breakup conversation.”

Aomine sighs and his head drops into Ryouta’s lap. It gets another laugh out of him. “God’s sake, can’t start a single fucking conversation…”

“You’re not breaking up with me?”

“Of course not, stupid!”

Aomine sighs again and stands up. “Come on, idiot, lets go wash your face alright?” He’s still holding Ryouta’s hand, and he uses it to help him up.

“I just… wanted to ask you what you think we could do to… make you feel better about this?” Aomine is determinedly not looking at him as they walk towards the nearby public toilet. “I mean, I guess, this kind of proves we need to do something about it, we can’t have you just waiting for me to break up with you.”

He’s starting to feel more than a little bit embarrassed as Aomine talks, but then, Aomine’s looking a bit embarrassed too, since he’s talking so much, and it’s showing how much he’s actually _thought_ about this, and usually Aomine doesn’t think about… well, anything, except basketball and boobs.

And… clearly… him.

Ryouta shifts a little closer to drop his head against Aomine’s shoulder. “Just tell me you love me until it sticks,” he mumbles. He’s not sure he’s even serious about the suggestion.

Aomine is quiet for a few steps, and Ryouta starts to think that maybe he didn’t hear him, which is just as well, since he’s starting to feel embarrassed by it and _hoping_ that he didn’t, but--

“I mean… I do, you know. So uh… I… could.”

His awkwardness betrays him - he probably would die of mortification first - but his willingness makes Ryouta feel like his insides are about to melt.

“It’s cute that you think you could say it that often, Aominecchi.”

“Oi, shut up!”

“I’ll make it easier for you, and just ask you if you still love me today so all you have to say is yes.”

“Just go fucking wash your face so we can play ball, idiot!”

 

* * *

 

(Daiki wakes up, and it’s hard to tell what time it is - his room is dark, but that doesn’t mean anything really - but Kise is there, and it’s warm, and he has no shirt on under the blankets in his bed.

Kise’s sleepy eyes turn to him - maybe it’s morning after all - and he smiles at him, and it still does funny things to Daiki's stomach, even now, after so long.

“Do you still love me today, Daiki?”

Kise hasn’t asked him in a long time, and he only ever asks anymore because he loves to hear it.

Daiki doesn’t mind indulging him. Well. In his own way. He reaches around Kise to find the spot on his hip where his Mark sits and strokes it with his fingers, just the way he knows makes Kise shiver.

“Fuck yeah I do,” he says, and smiles back at him.)


End file.
